Buried Deep
by mimie-puddleduck
Summary: The god of mischief Loki is captured, and broken. What will it take to heal him? Will he ever find freedom? Set post- avengers in Asgard. Loki POV. Rated T for: mild depression, what could be seen as mild sexual hints, and because I'm paranoid. First fic - be nice please! Loki/OC please review


**I know it's 'pulpy', and 'mushy', but I wrote it in a bout of post-Thor feels, so no regrets!**

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****My cell in Asgard has four walls, a ceiling and a floor, designed specifically for me, and I am reminded vaguely of that glass shell the humans put me in. But back then I was in control, and I could see out. I chose to be there. Here, there is only one window, with bars across it. Before, I would have crashed through the wall without a second glance, but now they don't even bother the shackle me. I am permanently stripped of my power and I hate it – I feel incredibly weak and insignificant. Insignificant – nothing's changed there then.

Thor visits occasionally, but less and less frequently of late, and I suspect that those visits sadden him. 'It's not my fault!' I want to shout at him. 'It's all your Father's fault!' But, of course, I don't. That Frost Giant baby can remain buried in the snow for all I care. It should have been left to die.

It. Not I. Not ever I.

With nothing to do, I sink in to a trance like state, exploring endless possibilities, always the future, not the past. My mind they have left alone, thankfully, my mind was always my greatest asset, and I try to keep it from withering. Once, I start up a conversation with one of the guards. He thought me mad, and I half agreed with him. Talking about the weather, of all things. How disgustingly human of me. I repel myself, wasting away in the city that is rightfully mine.

I am deep in despair when a new face appears at the window, shocking me out of the self pity that I was wallowing in. I had almost succeeded in forgetting that face. Almost. How long has it been since we kissed in the castle, uttering nonsensical rubbish to each other? According to Thor, she completed me. She was far more than a friend, I remember how I stroked her hair and she sighed deeply, both of us in ecstasy. But that was long ago, when everything was black and white, when I was ignorant, and happily so. That was part of a time that I had forgotten; the good before the fall. Now she gazes at me, perhaps out of curiosity or disgust, and doesn't speak.

I laugh bitterly. "Have you come to mock me, my lady?"

She seems surprised, either at my hollow tone or my question. "Mock you, my lord?"

"After all, it was you who warned me against that course of action."  
Now she appears to be insulted, and she whispers angrily, "Do you not know me after all this time?"  
I have been preoccupied in discovering who I really am, and focusing only on myself. Selfish. Human.

"Lady?" I choose to reply carefully, masking my face in an expression of curiosity and bewilderment.  
"I love you, Loki."  
"You love the prince that you used to know, not the ruthless, animalistic Frost Giant." I spit out each word, admitting it aloud. It makes me feel vulnerable, and I don't like it.  
"Truly, that matters not," She dismisses my argument, and I am caught off guard. It would have been easier if she had shunned me like I deserve. I find myself giving in to my weakness, standing up and wrapping my hands around hers, which grip the bars tightly.

"Where are the guards?" I ask.

"Away," She replies. How cold our conversation is!

"Why have you come to see me?"

She keeps silent, looking directly at me with those startling amber eyes that still send a tremor down my spine, and I know at once what she is trying to say. I feel a tingle of hope run through me, hardly daring to believe it.  
"One condition," She whispers. Instinctively, I draw closer to her, our lips almost touching.

"What?" I breathe, not completely sure that I want to hear the answer.

"You forget everything. Forget Asgard, forget revenge, and come with me far away."

I laugh. "That's quite specific, lady." And a steep request. She asks me to forget. As I have discovered, that is an impossible feat. Does she think that I haven't tried? Does she imagine for one moment that I can ever be truly free? It grinds down on my heart in every single second, and my tormented soul grows weary of it. And as for revenge, in this weak form that is not even remotely possible.

"I will never forget." She knows that I say that as a fact, and she blinks back tears on my behalf. Without thinking, I reach through the bars and brush her eyes gently with my thumb. Then inside I curse myself, for being so soft, so weak, so broken. So needy, and so alone.  
"My lord. My love. Will you come with me?"

How could I remain in prison when she is here, offering me escape in the most beautiful form possible? She has not crossed my mind recently, but I find myself wanting to change that. Something deep within me is screaming for her, as the rest of me screams for freedom and justice. It is a good thing that it has been buried until now, for this yearning for her might well have killed me.

I kiss her urgently through the bars, and love is rekindled within me. How could I have forgotten her? She is the only thing left in my life worth living for.  
Still kissing, I melt through the wall, then break away, taking her hand instead.  
"I will be slow and frail," I warn her, but she only squeezes my hand and smiles. "Then let us go."

My aching limbs sigh in relief as we run into the golden sunlight, leaving all traces of ice behind us. I don't look back at Asgard, and am glad that I am not tempted to. Looking upon that city would only make me jealous. I concentrate instead on the ground beneath my booted feet, the wind on my face. I suck in the sweet, fragrant air, tilt my head back and smile; the muscles are not used to it, so it aches slightly. Her hand is still in mine, and for my sake she keeps to a fairly slow pace. Staying with me forever.

So this is bliss.

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**Please review? :)**


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